Blair Waldorf Really Does Love Something
by scout27
Summary: TV BASED: Blair's got no where to go but up. After all, she certainly couldn't fall much further than she already had; and there are so many people to blame for it. But most of all she blames herself.


**A/N - Sometimes I just have too much fun crawling around in character's heads. Blair is such a complicated character, this all just kind of poured out one night as I was wondering what she might have been thinking after she decided not to leave NYC for France. It's the first time I've written anything Blair centric, so this is new ground for me. It's a one shot and completely introspective. Gossip Girl is not mine and I own no part of the characters or the universe.**

** I hope you all enjoy it! Read and drop me a review!  
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**Blair Waldorf Really Does Love Something...Sometimes**

Sometimes she hated this God damned city.

She hated it's endless sea of yellow roads, covered with the constant stream of taxis and anything but brick, not one of them leading to Oz. She wondered what it would be like to look out of the car window and see a forest of trees instead of a forest of gray and brown buildings, people, and dirty streets. She wondered what it would be like to open her window and smell the fresh scent of untouched and untainted air instead of exhaust fumes and stale hot dogs from the corner vendors. She wondered what it would be like to live in a house with a yard, a picket fence, a brown lab, two point five kids, and a mother and father who played Yatzee together every Thursday night.

She hated that it was never really dark. She hated this God damned city and it's God damned nocturnal nature. It never slept, and she never slept, not really. Her mind was constantly traveling a million miles a minute just like the words that scrolled across the thousands of brightly lit signs in Times Square. She hated walking down the street and bumping into a thousand people, half of whom were tourists and stuck out like a sore thumb on a clown hand. They tried to blend in but she could spot them from a hundred miles away. She wondered if she would be happier, more settled and well adjusted if she lived someplace corn-fed like Iowa or Kansas. She wondered if maybe her life would be simpler. But what would she do there? Where would she shop? Well, she thought, there was always the internet for that. She hated this God damned city and it's millions of people, it's scene, it's miles of familiar looking and never ending streets, and it's constant thriving heartbeat. She hated New York City but she loved it. Its life was her life and that heartbeat was her heartbeat. It was her home, and she never wanted to live anyplace else.

Sometimes she hated Serena van der Woodsen.

She had always been all long legs and slim torso, with that long blond hair that constantly seemed to fall just right over her shoulders to frame her perfectly beautiful face. It was hard to be friends with a girl like that when you were short and brunette and, regardless of how hard you tried, always the one that people looked at second. She hated that Serena was seemingly incapable of being a bitch; that no matter how shitty the situation got, Serena always tried to look for the best. She hated Serena because _she_ tried so hard, and Serena didn't try at all. People just seemed to automatically love her no matter what she did, or how much she fucked up. She hated that Serena van der Woodsen had always been able to screw up and take risks and do the wrong thing knowing that someone would be there to clean up after her. That she would end up just fine after it was all said and done because that's the way her life was. Serena was always going to be okay. That no matter how far she fell she always climbed out of the pit on the sunny side, brushing the dirt from her knees and standing up taller than she had before.

Serena had left her without any warning and slept with her boyfriend all in the same year and she still hated her for that.

She hated that Serena always seemed so much more content with who she was than Blair ever felt. No matter how much nasty gossip was spread around the Upper East Side, Serena never seemed to pay mind to any of it. Serena knew who she was and what she wanted; Blair had no clue even though she played the part better than Audrey at Tiffany's. One day she felt like she knew exactly what her future should hold, and the next she didn't even know what pair of Manolo's she should wear with her uniform that day, let alone what she wanted from her life. She hated that Serena could be genuinely happy with someone like Dan, someone who couldn't give her anything except love when Blair knew that simple love would never be enough for her.

She hated that Serena seemed to have it all figured out now, that she didn't need anyone to clean up her messes anymore, that she didn't need Blair to clean up her messes anymore. She hated that Serena cared so much about everyone. She hated that Serena cared so much about her. She hated that Serena was always there, no matter how terribly she had treated her. That Serena always forgave her, even if she didn't forget. She hated the way her world could be crumbling around her and that Serena could make it all seem just a little bit better by putting her arm around Blair's shoulder or wiping a tear from her face. Sometimes she hated Serena van der Woodsen, but she loved her more than anyone in the world.

Sometimes she hated her bitch of a mother.

She hated that with one look, with one sentence, her mother could make her feel like she was the biggest mistake that had ever happened and that she would never, _never_ be good enough for anyone. She despised the fact that with one word her mother could make her chase her old, disgusting habits like a greyhound running after a mechanical rabbit, around and around, never actually catching what she was after. With one small comment her mother could send her to the bathroom where she would spend the entire night hugging the cold porcelain of the toilet instead of the warm body of someone who loved her. She hated that her mother seemed to get some sort of perverse satisfaction out of knowing that she had this power and control over her own daughter. She hated that her mother made her _lose_ her control, something that she did rarely and despised every time.

She hated that her mother was constantly gone, and that she had pushed her father away. So far away that Blair couldn't even call him without a huge international charge to her cell phone, not that she cared about that, but a girl shouldn't have to cross an ocean to see her daddy.

She hated that her mother loved her work more than anything else in her life and that, no matter how hard she tried, she would always come second to fashion. She hated her mother because she had instilled that trait upon _her_. She hated the fact that her mother would do anything to get ahead and that Blair hadn't learned any other way to survive. She hated that her mother taught her to care so much about what other people thought, about impressing them, about worrying so damn much about people that you didn't even care about just because they could give you something or get you someplace in this world. She hated her mother sometimes, but she loved her so very much for making her who she was and giving her whatever she wanted because that was how she showed that she cared. And Blair wanted a lot. She always had and always would.

Sometimes she hated Nate Archibald.

She hated the way that she couldn't take her eyes off of him, but he didn't seem to have any problem taking his eyes off of her. She hated his carefree attitude. She absolutely hated how she had a tendency to get stressed about everything, and he didn't seem to be bothered by anything at all. She hated it when he left her to go spend time with his boat or his friends. She hated the fact that he didn't care about screwing up and spent half of his free time stoned. She hated Nate's sandy blond hair and the way it fell just right on his forehead. She hated his Lacrosse toned body and the way that his St. Jude's uniform fit him like a glove and made him look like a model from some over-marketed and generic retail chain like Abercrombie and Fitch. She hated that he was perfect without even trying.

She hated the fact that they had been a couple for most of their lives and had known each other even longer because sometimes it made her feel like he didn't realize how much he meant to her and that they really didn't _know_ each other at all. She wondered if perhaps they hadn't met until much later, he would see her the way that she saw him and he would really be the leading man that she had been dreaming him to be since she turned 8. She hated the way that he screwed up over and over again and she was helpless to deny him when he asked her to forgive him time after time. She hated him because _she_ had screwed up _one_ time and he couldn't seem to forgive her at all.

Yes, she hated Nate and his perfect, crooked grin. She hated the way that she fit perfectly in his arms like it was where she was meant to be. God, sometimes he hated Nate Archibald. The problem was, she _loved_ him. In fact she was sure, no matter what had happened, that he was the love of her life and always would be.

And sometimes she hated herself.

She hated herself because she knew she was pretty, but she never felt beautiful. She hated herself because she so often felt content but rarely felt truly happy. She hated herself because throwing up was often the only thing that made her feel like she had any control over her life. She hated the fact that she cared so much about what she had, that it ended up causing her to judge other people for what _they_ had. She hated the fact that this was the only way she knew how to survive and that no one had ever taught her any differently, in fact, they encouraged her. She hated her brown hair and her skinny chicken legs. She hated the fact that when she looked in the mirror she could never actually see herself staring back, only the disaster that was hiding inside. She hated the fact that she had a hard time talking to anyone about anything that was deeper than merely surface level.

She hated that her life had spiraled out of control, and that everyone now officially knew it and she had no idea what was going to happen next. She hated the fact that she was weak and that after all of her resolve; she had let Serena talk her into turning back to her car and going home. Maybe she would have been happier in France, away from all of her hate and all of her love. Maybe she could have started a new life and remembered what it would have felt like to be happy. Maybe Nate would miss her. Maybe Eleanor would miss her. Maybe Serena would miss _her_ the way that _she_ had missed Serena and she would finally realize what it felt like. Maybe Serena could help her fight this social battle, but she could only to so much to help her fight the battle inside of her heart. She hated the fact that she needed love so very much; that she craved it as if she were stuck in the desert looking for water.

Sometimes Blair Waldorf hated herself, and sometimes she was scared that she would never find anything inside to love.

_end_

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